Ronald Weasley and the Family Reunion
by pixileanin
Summary: Ron is six years old, and his First Magic still hasn't come.


Written for The Houses Competition, Year Two, Round Four.

House: Hufflepuff

Year: 5th

Category: Theme "Happy Family"

Prompt: [Object] cookies

Wordcount: 3050 (Google Docs)

Betas: 1917farmgirl, Kuro, Angel, Aya. You guys are awesome!

* * *

Ron had been six for almost a year, and he was just starting to 'get' things, even though his magic hadn't come yet.

Things like how dinner didn't just magically appear on the table. Someone had to prepare it first and, yeah, that did involve magic, but it also involved plenty of forethought and quite a bit of non-magical preparation.

And how, when his mum said she was busy, it actually meant that she was doing things, and it wasn't simply a synonym for 'I am too tired to play' or that she had gotten 'distracted by things other than him'.

And when Fred and George said they wanted to play with him, it wasn't always going to be as much fun for him as it was for them.

He'd figured out all of these things, and felt smarter for it, even though his magic hadn't come yet.

So, when the family sat down over dinner to discuss getting the house ready for the upcoming family reunion, and then talked about how much fun it was going to be, Ron was justifiably a little bit skeptical.

What were they going to make him do this time? Last year, he watched as his brothers de-gnomed the garden, washed the windows, emptied the rubbish bins, and peeled hard boiled eggs without getting to eat them straight away. None of it was very interesting or fun.

Over dessert, which was a delicious treacle tart, he listened to his mum and dad say names that were familiar to him, like Aunt Muriel, and Uncle Bilius. He also heard them say names that were strange and foreign to him, names he probably should have recognized, but didn't because he never paid close attention to the family stories. Why should he have to remember everyone anyway? He was still little enough to get away with a smile and nod when they re-introduced themselves like they did every year. Ginny never remembered anyone, and they kept telling her how cute she was.

After dinner, he saw his parents skimming through the family picture album, and at some point his mom got teary-eyed over things and people that weren't even there, like Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian. Every year, all the adults would gather around and tell stories, including stories of First Magic, remarking 'how much the children have grown' and 'how talented you all are'. Ron had practically memorized the ways that Charlie and Bill and Percy and Fred and George had gotten their first Magics. He was old enough to remember when Fred and George exploded their bunk beds when they turned six, and everyone kept a close eye on his little sister Ginny because she did everything early, they all said.

Ron wished that he had done something early, so he'd have a special picture in the album already.

"Boys, don't forget that you're in charge of the games again this year," his dad said.

Fred and George paused their wrestling match on the rug in the small corner of the living room long enough to nod and smile. Then George pinned Fred down in a headlock.

Laughing, he said, "Remember last year, when we did the obstacle course?"

"Yeah, let's not do that again," Fred said, and shrugged out of the hold. George hooted with mock outrage and pounced on him again.

While Fred and George continued the horseplay and dreamed up new ways to entertain the family, Ron thought about what he was looking forward to the most when everyone came over.

That was easy.

Cookies.

His mum had already baked a huge batch of the sweet treats earlier in the day. Ron had helped her make them, and he couldn't wait to eat a big handful of them tomorrow at the party.

For the whole next morning, the family got ready for the party. The older boys were setting up tables in the backyard. His dad had invited some people over early to help him set up a big tent, just in case it rained. Ron thought this was silly because when he looked up, all he could see was clear blue skies from horizon to horizon.

Ron wandered in the kitchen to check on the cookies just in time to see Percy try to sneak one from off the platter. His brother's hand immediately got slapped away by some unnamed cousin who looked about Bill's age.

"Hands off the biscuits!"

"Cookies," Ron corrected. He had been paying attention when his mum told him all about the recipe from 'across the pond'. Wherever _**that**_ was, that's what they called them. The cousin beamed at him. Ron felt important for knowing something.

Percy scowled, mumbling something about being corrected by a "mere child" who "wasn't supposed to know anything about the Big Wide World".

Ron stuck his tongue out at him. Percy wasn't even at Hogwarts yet. How much could he possibly know?

His older brother leaned over the platter of 'cookies-not-biscuits'. "What are those dark spots then if you're so smart?" Percy asked

"Chocolate chips," Ron said. He looked longingly at the platter.

Percy sniffed at the cookies and sighed along with him. "I know how you feel, Ron. I wish I could have one right now." Then he wandered off, veering around their little sister who was making whooshing noises and pretending to ride her toy broom around the living room.

Ron stuck his nose in the air, mimicking Percy's retreat. It was satisfying to know that his brother was just as interested in the treats as he was, even if it took ages for him to admit to it. Ron wanted those cookies right now too, but he'd promised his mum he would be good, and besides, his mother could get downright scary when she was mad (like that one time Charlie and Bill called her a green hag behind her back and she had given them an earful for it).

Ron didn't want to be boxed around the ears with his mum's house slippers. He just wanted the cookies.

He also wanted his magic to come.

Sometimes, all the relatives would look at the pictures of First Magics in the photo albums. They had all been about six, or five, or nearly seven, when it had happened. Ron was older than five, and nearly seven. But his magic still hadn't shown up.

His dad said that getting your first magic was like growing teeth. It would come when it was ready.

For his own sake, Ron hoped that getting his magic was nothing like growing teeth. First off, he had to lose one which, when he listened to Charlie's advice and tied a string to it and slammed the bedroom door, was a teary-eyed nightmare. That hadn't worked and hurt worse than a garden gnome bite.

Ron would know. Garden gnome bites could be nasty things.

Second, Ron hated that gap toothed feeling where the new tooth lay just out of sight under his gums. He had worried the spot with his lips and tongue for at least a week until it broke through.

Actually, if magic was more like getting new teeth, he might have felt a sliver of something lurking under his skin by now, itching to break out of him. Then he'd know that his magic was on its way. Then he could tell people, "I'm getting my magic any day now. You just wait."

But he felt nothing.

So in a way, Ron hoped it wasn't like growing teeth, but then he hoped a little bit that it was. He experimentally wiggled his new loose tooth and decided that Charlie wasn't going to find out about this one. He was proud of his loose tooth too, because that meant he was growing. Unfortunately, it also meant he was old enough for chores.

"Ron," his mum called from the kitchen, "have you cleaned out the rubbish bins yet?"

"I'm doing it now, Mum!" Ron sighed again as he left the platter of cookies and went outside. The big rubbish bins had been set out three days ago, and they were now full of rainwater. He dumped the rainwater over into his mum's bushes and then went about drying them up with old rags. On the porch, he saw Bill sweeping the spider webs off of the front door. Ron was thankful that he wasn't too big yet and wouldn't be asked to do that chore for a long while. Spiders were creepy!

As he rubbed the outside of the bins down, he wished that getting his first magic was more like getting cold, where he could feel it coming on, or the prickly sensation when he got hot and was just about to sweat in the summertime. Or the hair rising on the back of the neck when he knew he been caught sneaking snacks from the pantry.

With magic, he expected something like an inner warning, a power that was building up inside him, waiting to bubble up and spill out of him.

A rush of nerves like right before he jumped off a swing.

Maybe it would come as a reaction to something he would do one day. Fred and George had been jumping up and down on their knees when their beds exploded. So it could be like that. Or it could be entirely different. Percy had been asleep when his came.

Waiting for his magic to come was like waiting for permission to eat the chocolate chip cookies his mother had baked for the party. Except that Ron knew that moment when he would be allowed to eat the cookies would come any time now. He couldn't say that for his magic.

By the time he was called to the backyard, the guests had started arriving. Ron shook hands of people he only saw once a year, and got patted on the head more than he liked. Fred and George had scooted away to prepare the party games, so they missed out on all the questions.

"My, you're getting big. You must eat lots of vegetables, don't you?"

"Do you remember me? I'm your second cousin, related to your father's… oh, hello Arthur!"

"The baby's got a dirty nappy. Can you show me to the loo?"

And of course there was much talk about Percy, who was expected to go to Hogwarts next year. Ron was curious what it would be like with so many of his brothers out of the house at a time. What would it be like with just him and Ginny left? It would probably be very quiet. But then he remembered Fred and George, and he kind of wished that the twins were a little bit older too.

Things were never quiet for too long when they were around. Ron thought maybe it was because they were related to Uncle Bilius, who was playing a joke on Ron's older brothers.

"Do you want to see my favorite favorite flower trick?" he asked.

The response was a crowing of "Nooo" and "Don't you dare!" No one liked Uncle Bilius's flower trick, especially Fred and George, who ran circles around their uncle, howling, until their dad came over and told them to stop making so much noise.

When the ruckus died down, Ron found himself in front of Uncle Bilius.

"Hello, Ron," he said jovially.

Ron smiled up at him. He might be the weirdest uncle in the family, but he always made Ron feel like Ron was somebody. Not just another piece of furniture, or the cat, which they didn't have one, but if they did, he would feel like that, always hiding under the chair in fear of getting his tail stepped on.

Then Ron noticed that Uncle Bilius had the platter of cookies in his hand. Ron wanted to ask for one, because if Uncle Bilius had them, it must be time to eat. But then Ron didn't see his uncle eating any cookies. He glanced over at his mum, who was talking to another family member he didn't know - there were so many of them now - and they weren't eating anything yet either.

Ron weighed his options.

If it wasn't time to eat cookies, and if Ron asked for one now, he could get into trouble and possibly get sent to his room. If that happened, knowing this lot, it would be ages before anyone remembered to call him back. It might even take them well after it was time to start eating to remember that he was even up in his room. With his luck, there wouldn't be any cookies left and he'd have missed the whole thing.

Ron decided to be patient and not ask Uncle Bilius, who was wiggling his eyebrows in front of a giggling Ginny, for a cookie.

Bilius put the platter of cookies down next to the already impressive spread of food that Ron's mum had prepared. He lifted Ginny up into his arms and spun her around the room. She giggled more frantically.

Ron sighed, still looking at that platter of cookies. Life was hard.

Ron decided that his best option was to wait somewhere far away from that platter. He wandered past the table of food, picking his way along the stakes of the big tent. After a while, he ended up under the big tree in the backyard. It was going to take so long for cookie time that he'd probably be eight before he got one. He sighed again. If only he could have just one.

The air shimmered in front of him. Ron looked sharply in front of him as something formed right before his eyes. It was impossible. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but there it was, the entire platter of cookies hanging in the air in front of him.

How? They couldn't be real. He'd just seen the platter on the table out by the house.

They sure smelled real. Ron reached out to touch one. It felt real too. He took one gingerly from the plate. It might not be real, but if this was the closest he could get to the real thing, he wasn't going to ask any questions.

The cookie tasted wonderful. It melted in his mouth. Immediately, his tummy ached for more. Ron grabbed a whole handful of the magic cookies and began eating them with gusto.

"Well, what do you have there?"

Ron's gut dropped. Uncle Bilius had caught him with the magic cookies. But wait. They weren't real, so…

"Where is the cookie platter?"

His mother's shrill voice cut through the property, and Ron froze. The cookie platter in front of him vanished abruptly, and Uncle Bilius raised an eyebrow.

"Oh there it is," Ron heard his mum saying. "Someone's been at it already. Fred? George? Where are you two, and what have you done with my cookies?"

Uncle Bilius, instead of getting angry, smiled down at Ron. Ron felt like he was three inches high. He clutched the real-not-real cookies in one hand and swallowed what was in his mouth.

"I didn't think they were real," he said, tearing up.

Uncle Bilius patted him on the head. "I'm so proud of you, Ron! Let's go tell your mum."

Ron reluctantly let himself be led by his uncle to his mother who was smelling the breath of her twin sons.

"We didn't sneak the cookies, we promise!" Fred was saying. Then, "Look! It was Ron!"

When his mother turned around, Ron wanted to be swallowed up by the earth, He would be an outcast, living with the garden gnomes… Ginny would get all his toys… his brothers, Fred and George would laugh and laugh and laugh... he didn't know who had put those cookies in front of him, or why he'd been set up like that. Maybe his brothers were trying to get rid of him… maybe it was Percy getting back at him for breaking his broom...

"Oh Ron," she said.

Before he knew what was happening, his mother had swept him up in a big hug.

Ron was confused. Why wasn't his mother boxing his ears with her house slippers yet? "I didn't do it," he said softly. "I thought they were magic cookies. I didn't think they were the real ones."

"They were magic," she said. "That was your _first_ magic!"

Before he knew it, everyone was congratulating him. His dad scooted in, put another cookie in his hands and said, "Now say 'cheese'!"

Blinded by the flash of light from the camera, Ron was thrust into reach of Aunt Muriel, who squeezed him so tight that he thought his head was going to pop off. Old people who looked a lot like his dad, but weren't his dad, kept coming up to him for the rest of the day to shake his hand. Uncle Bilius kept winking at him, which would have been a little creepy if he didn't know his uncle so well.

Ron saw his father come out of the workshop, shaking a little white square of parchment, and then realized it was the photograph of his first magic. He watched as the whole family gathered around and his mum slipped it into the family picture album.

He felt so proud.

Later on, when the sun was starting to go down, Ron happily skipped through the back yard. But something in the sand box made him stop. It was his little sister, Ginny. She was sitting all alone with a little toy shovel in her hand, scooping up the sand and letting it fall back to the ground. Her face was pouty, and she looked like she was about to cry.

She saw Ron and frowned. "I'm the only one in the family left that doesn't have their magic," she said.

Ron climbed into the sand box and put his arm around his little sister. He knew exactly how she felt. "Don't worry, Ginny. You will be next, and it'll be way cooler than making cookies appear."

"Do you really think so?" Ginny asked, sniffling.

Ron hugged his sister. Then he felt a strange prickling sensation on his arm that was around her, and smiled.

"I know you will," he said with certainty. "I can feel it!"


End file.
